crawling up the oak
a place where the rain falls
on Spainsh moss and ferns
covering the old oak tree
which is parked in the front
yard teeming full of life
fish in a pond, deck in the sun
weeds and bushes grow
together, basking in the lovely
radiance of light, joy and warmth
years round, year oval, the same
steady on with the seasons
changing from one to another;
and you and i were there
intertwined like vines
